Dove
by OmenProphecy
Summary: Dove was named by a scientist, perhaps because of the irony. She was less born than she was created, with extraordinary intelligence and powers. She was exactly what Voldemort wanted, except for one thing: she had a tendency to lean more towards benevolence and mercy than violence. Set loose upon Hogwarts in the year 1776, things may not go according to plan.


The wizard looked carefully at the Muggle scientist in his employ, searching for any hint of... well, he wasn't sure. Something important.

"She's nearly finished," Jenkins said, only barely disguising his glee. This was his greatest masterpiece; all of the prototypes he'd created in the past four years indicated that this- this woman- would be a success.

And what a success it was already! She was already in control of most of her brain, already speaking and eating. Her intelligence was much higher than average, according to the IQ tests and brain scans.

The only things missing were emotions. She was cold and unfeeling. She could easily destroy Jenkins and everything he was working for.

"The girl will be completed as soon as the emotions take." Pride filled the scientist's voice.

"Show me," the wizard said simply.

Jenkins nodded, leading the other man down a corridor and into a room marked: DO NOT ENTER. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Near the back of the room, sitting in a simple metal chair, was a young woman, only a teenager, really. There were dozens of machines attached to her, several of which were feeding a colorless substance into her head, into her brain.

"The emotions," Jenkins explained, pacing a bit. The girl's eyes followed the pair, but she didn't move.

The wizard stood in front of the girl. "How old are you?" he asked.

Jenkins fluttered about anxiously, warning his employer against speaking to her while the emotions were still settling. The wizard waved him away, confident in his ability to defend himself.

"Sixteen," the girl replied calmly.

The wizard looked over to the scientist. "It seems fine," he said smugly.

"So it does."

The girl spoke up, still in that strangely serene voice. "What is your name?"

The wizard smiled. "My name is Lord Voldemort."

~0~

She sat there on that metal chair for hours, then days, then weeks. Sustenance came through a needle, and she was allowed to use the loo every five hours.

She did nothing, but she wasn't bored. That was what her life was: sitting and thinking.

The scientists that ran her tests called her "highly intelligent", "extremely dangerous", and quite a few times, "bloody terrifying". She didn't care until after the emotions settled into her brain and began affecting her.

She'd known for a while that she wasn't considered normal or mundane. They didn't seem to think she could hear or understand them when they spoke of her progress in front of her.

She did care about that.

Only one scientist treated her like a sentient being, and that was a woman called Madelyn Parker. That one used to sit and talk with her, even giving her a name- 'my little dove', Dovey, but mostly just Dove.

It was from her, long before they ever restored her emotions, that she learned affection and compassion.

It was the same day Dove met Lord Voldemort that everything changed.

~O~

Sleep came easily to me, mostly because of the Dreamless Sleep potions every night at exactly ten o'clock in the evening.

Madelyn was the one that gave them to me most days. She would stroke my hair until I fell asleep, which never took long.

"Get some rest, my little dove. You have a big day tomorrow," she said.

I didn't even have time to be curious.

Waking up was just as easy. I sat up straighter in the chair, my eyes snapping back into focus. Scanning the room, I found myself alone, as usual.

This was all just one big routine. One day after the next, the same things happened. I woke at the same time every morning, I get a visit from Madelyn, and I am fed and watered. The tests take up most of the day, ending at nine-thirty in the evening.

I didn't have 'big days'. Something was wrong. Perhaps not wrong, but certainly different.

If it were any of the other scientist, they would have given me the potion without a word, but Madelyn had elected to give me a warning.

What could happen that would warrant a warning?

I smelled the man before I saw him. He was as clean as a human male could possibly be, like most of the scientists. His personal scent was like that of pepper doused in alcohol- he'd been drinking relatively recently, apparently.

He rounded the corner and pushed open the door, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of the corridor outside. His scent flooded my nose. Not only had he been drinking, but he was _drunk_.

The man turned and stumbled. I reached out easily and caught his arm. "Careful," I whispered. "Doctor..."

"Hallowey," the scientist replied shakily.

I gave him a moment to regain his equilibrium.

"I'm... Dr. Hallowey," he repeated.

I nodded.

"I'm supposed to bring you to Lord Voldemort."

_I could have guessed that._ "Go on."

"Please come with me."

Dr. Hallowey unhooked the last of the wires and tubes connected to me. His hands were shaking, and I felt the slight twinges of muted pain as he slid the needles out from under my skin.

"Sorry," he murmured, shaking even worse.

The words came unbidden.

_Bloody terrifying._

My face twisted. He was scared of me, on top of being inebriated. Of course he would be shaking.

Dr. Hallowey's hair was a nondescript chestnut, and gelled back rigidly. His eyes were a bit on the golden side of brown. He had laugh lines, but now he wore a frown.

He finished putting all of the needles and tubes away, and I stood. It was a wonderful feeling. It had been a while since the physical tests, and I hadn't been able to properly stretch once they were finished. Sure, I had the trips to the loo, but those were timed.

The scientist led me into the hallway. I looked around curiously. The walls were a sickly off-white color, and they were lined with plaques and doors.

We turned sharply to the left, and Dr. Hallowey stumbled

I grabbed his upper arm before he could fall. "Careful," I repeated.

Several doors later, he finally knocked and opened one. "Th-this is it. Please go in," he announced, slurring slightly.

I went in, as tense as if I were headed to my death. Dr. Hallowey stayed behind, letting me go forward alone.

"Good morning," Lord Voldemort said pleasantly.

I stood there silently, hardly moving, as his eyes roved over form. Finally, he nodded. "She seems stronger than even yesterday," he remarked. The head scientist agreed happily, intense pride and triumph in his eyes.

"Come forward," Lord Voldemort commanded.

I obeyed, then became still once more.

"You remember me," said Lord Voldemort. It wasn't a question.

I nodded, but I doubted he noticed, because he plowed on with barely a pause.

"And you know what magic is." He said it as if he had no doubt, which made sense. He'd probably dictated each and every scrap of knowledge in my head.

"Yes."

He smiled tightly. "You are a pure-blood, child. You know what this means."

_Not a single drop of mundane blood. This is better. Pure-bloods are superior to mundanes and their ilk._

"Yes." My tone was flat and cold, quite unlike when I spoke to Madelyn, but the kind reserved for those that I didn't trust. This man was one such. Planting these notions in my head- for hadn't Madelyn told me that nothing defines anyone? Madelyn was a mundane. She was the only one who had been kind to me. If I were superior to the other scientists, as mundanes, then did that mean I was superior to Madelyn? That couldn't be true. I placed a bookmark on the idea, ready to think about later.

"Have you any idea what being a pure-blood entails?" His eyes glinted red, just for a moment, and I saw the envy stuffed away under the surface. Of being pure-blood?

Thinking for a moment, I realized I didn't. "No."

Lord Voldemort nodded, obviously expecting this. "It is one of the main things you must know before we send you on your mission." He paused for a moment, looking me over again. "I have employed a mentor for this reason."

That didn't seem very different from the various tests I'd been through. One thing bothered me, however. "Is there a reason you cannot simply plant the knowledge in my brain?" I asked.

Dr Jenkins spoke up then. "It is not mental knowledge you must learn. Your body must learn how to move on its own."

That I understood. "Thank you." Then, turning to Lord Voldemort, I inquired, "When will my training start?"

"As soon as your mentor arrives. She has been told to be here shortly."

He wasn't kidding. There was a knock at the door, and Lord Voldemort didn't even glance at it. "You may enter," he said.

A young woman with incredibly curly, black hair entered, her heavily-hooded eyes cast on the ground. "My Lord," she whispered.

"Bella," Lord Voldemort said, inclining his head at her.

It didn't escape my notice that Dr Jenkins was ignored completely.

"This is your mentor," said Lord Voldemort, to me. Then to the woman, "Bellatrix, you may name her."

"I have a name already," I said, regretting it as soon as I spoke.

Lord Voldemort's expression grew dangerous. "Yes?"

"Dove," I replied.

"Dove," Lord Voldemort repeated. "Who named you?" he asked calmly.

I knew better than to tell the truth _there_. "Myself," I responded.

"Why?" Less calm now.

I shrugged. "It's a pretty word."

He sighed, but let it go. The look in his eyes were suggesting that he was picking his battles.

"Bella." She snapped to attention. "My orders stand. You remember your responsibilities?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good girl." He patted Bellatrix's head. Her eyes closed. "You may leave." That was clearly our dismissal.

_And that was my second encounter with the Dark Lord, the first in which I'd had emotions. Quite full of himself, isn't he? He had reason to be, I suppose, but it grates at my nerves even now. I don't know if he meant to seem so condescending, as he obviously had use for me._

She turned to me with a feral smile. "Shall we?" she asked. It wasn't a question.

I didn't answer her, instead following the woman out of the room, down the corridor, and into what I assumed were Bellatrix's private rooms.

The walls were a light cream color, but the carpet was red. The tapestries on the walls were fine and obviously expensive. In fact, everything was fine and expensive. Armchairs, in silver, sat before the fireplace on the other end of the room. One wall was a mirror, but in place of Bellatrix's reflection, there was a flash of pale green. The reflection finally stopped moving, and I saw an armored dragon.

My own reflection was tiny, but I could just make out a girl, with my hair, my eyes, my everything, but much smaller than it should have been.

"Your name is Lynx, now," Bellatrix said suddenly, as if she'd just decided.

I stopped my examination of the strange mirror, tilting my head slightly in a question.

"You can't seriously expect our Lord to call you _peace_, can you?" Her face was mocking, as if I were a dim-wit and couldn't understand her anyway. "And since you will be my daughter, I may as well name you in the custom of my family. Lynx leaves the right image in one's head, and it isn't far away from 'Dove', after all."

_Of course it is. But it's fine; Lynx is as good a name as any. It could be a nickname,_ I thought optimistically. _Just don't let anyone know our real name, and we should be fine._

"Thank you, Bellatrix," I said. What else could I do?

She graced me with a genuine smile. I could tell she wasn't used to it; her mouth almost seemed to want to snarl.

"Now sit," Bellatrix ordered, with not as much steel as I would expect. "We will begin now."

~O~

I slept in a small, fancy bed in a room connecting to Bellatrix's. The room was relatively plain, at least compared to the rest of Bellatrix's quarters. There was a vanity on one wall, of course, with brushes, perfumes, and lotions that I didn't dare touch. There was a mirror beside that, and a wardrobe, and a door leading to a private bathroom, but no windows. None of the rooms had windows; it didn't seem strange to me at the time.

At ten o'clock sharp, I went to lie down, but I had trouble sleeping. I knew it had something to do with the potion I had to drink every night. Perhaps I'd grown to rely on it. Nevertheless, I managed to drop off not too much later.

Bellatrix woke me up in the morning at the usual time. I was naive enough to believe that life wouldn't change much, under Bellatrix's care. This familiarity was enough to cement the idea in my mind.

**_In my defence, I didn't know any better. I was basically a new creation. All the knowledge in the world couldn't have made me wise enough._**

**_At the time, I was foolish enough to think I knew more than those controlling me._**

**_He who knows not and knows not that he knows not is a fool; avoid him._**  
**_He who knows not and knows that he knows not is a student; teach him._**  
**_He who knows and knows not that he knows is asleep; wake him._**  
**_He who knows and knows that he knows is a wise man; follow him._**

**_I did not know this, just as I didn't know anything truly worth knowing. I was a fool. Only briefly, I like to think, because that day I was proven wrong._**

Bellatrix dragged me to the vanity. "You may not have had the opportunity to learn proper grooming with your... _background_," Bellatrix said, sneering at the last word, "but you must learn that appearance is one of the most important parts of being a pureblood."

I stared blankly at her. Madelyn's hair was a wild mess of curls, and she was still beautiful.

_But she's a mundane,_ a part of me thought. I quickly quashed that voice.

Bellatrix brushed my hair for me, running the bristles through my hair painlessly, starting at the bottom and working her way up to my roots. Her gentle hands surprised me. Her personality was so sharp, it didn't seem right for any part of her to be less than thorny and painful.

"You have potential," she said coldly.

"Thank you," I said, not meaning it and not quite managing to capture her tone.

Pulling out her wand, Bellatrix flicked her wrist. My hair was pulled into an elegant knot.

Then she held out the wand to me. "Try," she said.

I took the dark-brown stick from her, because that part of her command was obvious. Staring at it for a moment, I finally waved it vaguely in Bellatrix's direction.

Nothing happened, not surprising me in the slightest. I was a bit disappointed, though.

She sighed impatiently, as if it were my fault her instructions were unclear. Opaque, practically. She took the wand back. "The incantation is _sursum pilis_," she explained. "Watch my hand again."

I did, and she flicked her wrist once more, this time saying the spell out loud.

Accepting the wand again, I pointed it at her hair. "Sursum pilis_,_" I said clearly. Her curly locks rose feebly, twisted a bit, then fell again.

**_See, there? That was the first time I'd ever failed a test. That simple spell planted a seed of doubt in my head: was I not truly special? Was I really that stupid, that a woman only a few years older than I would manage it so flawlessly and effortlessly, while I could not?_**

**_I became more eager to learn, then. I was still proud, but something so simple wouldn't change me entirely. That came later._**

**_I regret my pride, but was a necessary thing to have at that time, even if it existed solely to be beaten out of me._**

Once I was deemed presentable, Bellatrix led me down the same hall to the room I'd met her in. Lord Voldemort was waiting for us there.

"Bella," he greeted. She kneeled, forehead touching the floor. "Up," Lord Voldemort commanded. Bellatrix obeyed.

"Master," she whispered.

Lord Voldemort smiled thinly. "What is her name?"

"Lynx, My Lord. Is it to your liking?"

He considered for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "It should suit her well." Then, unexpectedly, just as I'd gotten used to being ignored, "Lynx." Lord Voldemort turned to me. "How was your first night under Bella's care?"

My voice stumbled for a moment as I got over the surprise. "I-it was fine," I replied.

"My Lord," Bellatrix hissed under her breath.

Lord Voldemort laughed. "Indeed, my dear."

I was silent for an instant too long.

"Vuleo_._"

There was a bright sting of pain in my chest. I gasped slightly, looking shocked over at him.

"It was fine...?" he prompted, an amused smile on his lips.

"...My Lord," I said in a flat tone.

Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Agopin."

This time the pain was worse. I went down to the floor, gasping sharply.

When the curse ended, I got up again.

That was obviously the wrong thing to do, as Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at me again. "Crucio," he said almost conversationally.

If I'd thought the first spell was painful, it was a relaxing massage compared to this.

If I'd thought the second spell hurt, it was nothing compared to this.

This was _pain_, I knew that better than I knew anything.

**_Maybe I should be ashamed that it only took one Crucio to rid me of my pride. I should be, perhaps, but I'm just grateful. I was still innocent back then; I don't know if I could've swallowed more._**

**_Can you almost see my foolish arrogance fall away as I writhed on the floor at Voldemort's feet? Bellatrix beside me, looking down her nose at my twitching form? Can you see it?_**

**_Perhaps. But it happened in that moment: I transformed from a fool to a student._**

It was centuries before the spell ended. The pain wasn't gone entirely, just reduced to a dull ache in my bones.

I didn't know if I'd screamed. I probably had, because my throat felt like it had been sliced open from the inside.

My vision cleared, and the buzzing in my ears faded away. Bellatrix and Lord Voldemort stared down at me, and I knew better than to get up.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," I whispered hoarsely, because I knew I was wrong. Why else would he punish me?

"Learn from this, Lynx," Lord Voldemort said. "Worse things happen to those who displease me."

I shrank back, feeling sympathy in every cell of my body for the wretched souls who'd failed him. How could it have been worse? "Yes, My Lord."

~O~

"You should not defy the Dark Lord again," Bellatrix advised that night as she brushed and braided my hair. "Only painful things come of that."

I nodded. "Thank you," I said as she got up to leave. She inclined her head at me and vanished into her own bedroom.

I laid awake, thinking.

Why had Lord Voldemort tortured me? If he'd created me, then how could I have already done something wrong?

The scientists worked for him; the emotions came on his orders. If I had too much of something, why wouldn't he punish the scientists, not me?

**_All valid questions, with fairly obvious answers. I couldn't see, yet. I still believed in the general harmlessness of people. I believed that it was a test, and perhaps it was. But that wasn't all. That was the shove on the first domino, and the rest were just waiting to__ tumble._**

~O~

A week from then, I began hearing pounding on the wall that separated my room from Bellatrix's. It was a steady knocking, _thump. Thump. Thump._ There were guttural groans as well, and what sounded like heavy breathing. The floor fairly vibrated with it. I couldn't get to sleep. It finally stopped in the early, early morning. I asked Bellatrix what it was when she came to get me up, but she didn't answer.

The next night the silence was complete, so complete that it seemed somehow even more sinister than the noise. And the floor still shook.

I asked again, and her answer was only, "I do as our Master bids."

I didn't know what that meant, but I knew I didn't like it.

As hard a personality Bellatrix had, I was fond of her. She was my guardian and mentor, and I dreaded the puzzle piece I knew I was missing.


End file.
